Grass Stains
by TheoryOfDestiny
Summary: When you live in a world of competition, the last thing you want is to lose out in your own game by someone you hate, but tolerate because you have to. That badge meant the world to me, it was supposed to be mine. But that Scottish idiot stole it.
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

'Oh, come on, Jack! You can't deny that, _that_ was the most amazing feint you have _ever _witnessed!' I shouted, as a threw the quaffle through the air towards him. He caught it with ease. 'Did you actually see the _spin_ he put on that quaffle! Has to be goal of the season. Just has to be.' I reminisced the shot Jonathan Bailey of the London Wasps scored, just the day before, in the match we went to see against the Holyhead Harpies. It was beautiful. Pure _beaut_. I replayed it over again, wondering how on earth he got the quaffle to move like that. Wondering if I would ever score a shot like that. Wondering –

Thunk.

'Ahh; Jesus!' I said clutching my head, where I'd just been hit by the quaffle. 'What the hell did you do that for?' I sent my elder brother a glare. He didn't exactly throw it gently at me. 'That bloody hurt, you stupid git!'

'Not my fault you were too busy fantasizing about that bloody goal! That's all you've talked about since yesterday! 'Jonathan Bailey this. Jonathan Bailey that. Pure beauty of a shot. Beautiful. Amazing.' Honestly, I'm getting a bit sick of it, Tori. Yeah, I agree it was an amazing shot, and I know you're obsessed with quidditch, but could you talk about something else for a change?' He asked, with a small, hopeful smile dawned upon his face.

I stared at him. Talk about something else? What else is there to talk about? The weather? I knew I was obsessed with quidditch. I mean, I've been playing it for about nine years now. But you'd think my own family wouldn't get sick of hearing me talk about it. Even my own brother! Who was Gryffindor quidditch captain in his day at Hogwarts, just told me to stop talking about quidditch. Sure, he doesn't play it competitively anymore – which was a big let down. All the big clubs wanted to sign Jack Hunter, Beater extraordinaire. But he shocked them all by becoming a Healer. Even I thought it was a waste of his talent at the time, but now, after I've seen him at work in St. Mungo's, I know he loves it. Even more than quidditch... now, I still think _that_ is a bit weird.

'JACK! VICTORIA! LUNCH IS ON THE TABLE!' Mother's voice came ringing from the back door. I could see her standing just outside the door, from where we were hovering on the pitch. She waved us in, before retreating inside the house.

I saw Jack glance at me, a mischievous glint in his eye. 'Race you?'

I narrowed my eyes competitively, and smirked. 'You're on, big bro. Get ready to eat my tailwind,' I said confidently, turning my broom to face in the direction of the house.

'Ready ..'

'Set ..'

'GO!'

We both sped off towards the house. Being siblings, we were going to be about the same standard at flying. And that happened to be a pretty good standard. Hunter's are renowned for being good fliers. Not that I brag about it, of course. No, seriously, I don't. Just because I come from a quidditch family doesn't mean I should be the best. But right now, I wanted to be. Just beating Jack at a moderately competitive race would be amazing. Just because he's stopped playing, doesn't mean he's lost that amazing skill he had when he was at Hogwarts.

We were neck in neck. Equal. Both of us concentrating on the one thing. Winning. We swerved around the hedges at the back of the garden. The wind was picking up; it was harder to maintain the speed. But we kept going. The best part was coming. On the patio, there was an archway. The winner always made it through the archway first, that was what determined the win. We sped over mother's vegetable patch. Then the flower beds. Then there was the fountain. We split up, one at either side. I leaned forward, willing my broom to go faster. I was ahead, but only by a whisker. I glanced back, Jack was right on my tail. I glanced back towards the archway, it getting closer. Suddenly I felt a tug on my broom. I lost my balance slightly and veered off course, cursing at my brother. That cheat! I swung my broom around and accelerated back towards the arch. He was nearly there. But after that foul move, I was determined not to let him win. I didn't care if we crashed or not. He was_ not _winning. I was getting close, so I shut my eyes tight and waited for the collision.

We collided, at what some would call, a great speed. We flew through the side of the wicker archway in a tangle of limbs and brooms, before landing on the spongy, green grass below us.

'You cheat! You pulled on my broom!' I shouted, from underneath him. I made sure and kicked him for good measure. 'That clearly declares that I won. Since when does a Hunter ever cheat!' I shoved him off me, glaring at him. I got to my feet, and looked down disgustedly at the grass stains on my clothes. He was laughing. Laughing.

'A Hunter doesn't cheat? I clearly remember you punching that Slytherin in the middle of a match once, and if that's not cheating, I don't know what is –'

'That was different! He deserved it!'

'So he deserved a black eye just because he was beating you with the quaffle every time?'

'He was _not_ beating me _every time_! He was being a foul, dirty scumbag!'

'I think you were just pissed, because everyone was expecting you to be flying rings around him, because you were the 'Baby Hunter' and were bound to have the same skill as the rest of your family. Thing was, what annoyed you was that you weren't being allowed to show off.'

I scowled at him. That was so not true. He doesn't know how hard it is to try and live up to expectations. 'That's harsh, Jack. It was hard being a second year on the team! Especially when you were the captain! I had to try and match your pace and skill, because everyone was expecting me to be amazing – just like _you_!'

'Nobody was expecting you to be as good as me – '

'Yes, they were! Even you were! I could see it. God, you're just as bad as that Oliver – bloody – Wood! Thinking you were all so much better than everyone else. I'm actually glad you gave quidditch up, it means I wouldn't still be competing with you to be the best in the family!'

'We don't compete to be the best in the family –'

'Honestly, you're only home for two days and you're causing a ruckus already, Jack,' Mother interrupted us calmly. She was used to us arguing. But despite our constant arguing, we loved each other. You know, that big brother, little sister thing. 'C'mon, lunch is ready – what one earth have you done to my archway!'

Jack and I glanced at the archway; well, what was left of it. We looked at each other, sharing a grin. It had been completely demolished. Wicker was sticking out from all over it, the hanging baskets were no longer hanging and they had spilled soil onto the ground and the flowers were ruined.

'Sorry, mum … uh, Jack and I had a bit of a collision,' I said, nodding towards our brooms that were still abandoned on the grass. We wouldn't have crashed if he hadn't cheated. I should blame it on him. 'We'll fix it later though.'

'Oh, it doesn't matter – I'm sure I'll manage it myself,' Mother said, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. 'I should have known that something might get broken, knowing you two. Right, come on before you lunch gets cold. Oh, and Victoria, dear, your Hogwarts letter is here.'

I gasped. Yes! Yes! Yes! The moment I have been waiting for _all summer_! I squealed and ran towards the back door. I sprinted into the kitchen, not bothering to take off my filthy trainers. I glanced around; there it was! Sitting on the table. I took a deep breath. Please have given me the badge. _Please_ have given me the badge. I pulled out a chair and sat down, staring at that envelope like my life depended on it. Mum and Jack had come into the kitchen, they stood behind me; watching. I took the envelope in my hands, and opened it slowly. I tipped it upside down and the contents fell out.

My heart dropped.

No badge.

Dumbledore has obviously made a mistake. Who else could he give it to?!

My heart dropped even further when I realised.

There was only _one other person_ Dumbledore could really give the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain badge to.

**Well? Tell me what you think! Should I continue it? **

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	2. Nothing Has Changed

_Chapter One_

I could already tell that this _wasn't _going to be a good year. Ever since Wood had been named Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, I'd been in a permanent sour mood, and practice was never a walk in the park. The same questions ran through my mind, and I still hadn't found an answer to them. _How_ could Professor Dumbledore do that? _Why_ did McGonagall let him have get the badge? That idiot can barely transfigure a match into a pin! And, he's failed Potions for the last six years! He wasn't exactly the brainy type – at least_ I_ had a brain. Although, I had always had trouble with Herbology. I seemed to attract dangerous plants. But still, after two years, I just couldn't believe that _he_ had been picked over me. It was fair to say that once again I wasn't going to be nice to Wood... not that I had ever been nice to him before.

Up until third year, when we both got selected for the team, I had paid no notice of him. To me he was just some cocky little git, who happened to be in my year and in my house, but I wanted nothing to do with him. He thought he was the best thing since sliced bread. I hated him. And I still do, even more so now. On the field, we were always competing against each other. We both thrived to be praised by Charlie Weasley – the previous captain. We both thrived to be praised by our fellow Gryffindors. We both wanted to be the best.

He thought he had won, all because _he_ got the badge. But _I_ was determined to be the best on the team – no matter what the consequences. And, this being our last year, I was determined to make the best impression. It wasn't unusual for scouts to go and watch school quidditch games. And I wanted to make sure that I stood out. Especially, more than Wood.

I was standing in the middle of the platform, my suitcase by my side, waiting to get on the train. In fact, I didn't even _want_ to get on the train, as I knew I would have to face Wood's content smirk again. I had been contemplating just smacking him to get all my anger out of the way ahead of the new season. The thought certainly did make me smile – but I knew how disappointed my dad would be. He was all about good sportsmanship. Remember that time I punched the Slytherin? Jack snitched on me and I got grounded for three weeks in the July when I returned home. No friends. No going anywhere. And worst of all, no quidditch. They were the worst three weeks of my life.

'All ready?' my Dad asked, clapping his hands together loudly, in anticipation. I glanced up at him irritatedly. He sighed, 'It's not the end of the world, you know. And you've already took two years of him being your captain –'

'I know I have, Dad! But it still doesn't account for how much I wanted that damn badge.'

It really did mean the entire world to me. My Dad himself had been Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, and my brother Jack too. I was a failure. I would never have the chance to be captain of Gryffindor. I wanted so badly to follow in the footsteps of my brother, and my father. It ran in the family for heavens sake! Like I said before, Hunter's are a quidditch family, and one of the best. And I know, if someone's better than me – then they're better than me, I can't change that. But it annoyed me so much, knowing that I was just as good, if not better than Wood. Yet _he_ got the badge.

'You know, that if you want to join any league team when you leave school, you have to have a recommendation from your captain – and if _Wood_, is your captain, you're better keeping on his good side, this year especially,' my Dad said, wisely. Sadly, it was true. Your application to join any club, had to have a recommendation from the captain of your team, who, unfortunately for me, was Wood. Who I hated. And who hated me. Great. After you sent away the application, you were either refused, or awarded the chance to play in front of scouts. Then, after that, your fate was decided. The team would either sign you on, or turn you away.

'I know, I know … I'll just try and not let my temper get the better of me,' I said, although, I knew that it was going to be a challenge.

Dad wrapped an arm around my shoulder, and hugged me briefly. 'Good,' he began, 'And I want you to just go out there, enjoy your time on the field, and score me plenty of goals – right?'

I sighed.. _try_ to enjoy myself, more like. 'Sure, Dad, sure … I've still got that record to try and beat anyways,' I said, although, I knew it would never happen. Two hundred and sixty eight goals in a season! Not even my Dad had managed to beat it, and from what Mum had told me, he was amazing in his heyday.

Dad grinned, and ruffled my hair, 'That's the spirit, kiddo! Better get going, can't have you missing that train!' He gently shoved me towards the gleaming Hogwarts Express. 'I'll try and make it to your first match, but no guarantees. See you soon!'

The Hogwarts Express let out a loud echoing whistle, and smoke billowed along the platform. I waved my goodbyes, but could no longer see my father through the dense smoke. Quickly, I stepped onto the train, pulling my suitcase behind me. I trundled through the carriages, pushing past dozens of chattering students who lined the corridors. It wasn't long before I found Jessie, Sarah and Paul, who had already started a game of Exploding Snap in their compartment. I slid open the compartment door, and every face within turned to gaze at me.

'Tori!'

I grinned, and pulled my suitcase in through the compartment door. 'Hey guys, have a good summer?' I asked, as I struggled to lift my heavy case onto the rack. Growing frustrated at the fact I couldn't manage to lift my suitcase even slightly off the ground, I decided that perhaps it was time to work on building up my upper body strength. Either that, or pack a little bit more lightly. I huffed, and puffed, getting more annoyed by the second.

'Move over weakling, let me do it!' Paul said, getting up off his seat and nudging me out of the way. He lifted my suitcase effortlessly off the ground and set it on the rack, before turning around, winking and flexing his biceps. 'See those guns, baby – hours of workout went into them –'

'Yeah, yeah! Whatever, you poser!' I taunted, shoving him onto his seat again, and sitting down beside him. Paul was tall, dark and handsome. He, like everyone else in the compartment, was a Gryffindor, and he had been one of my closest friends since First Year. He was rather cocky, and very intelligent.

'How was your summer, Tori?' the blonde haired, blue eyed girl sitting opposite me asked. Jessie Wright was a muggleborn, but you sure couldn't tell. She was, probably, the smartest witch in the year. Not to mention incredibly popular. I had to say that I was a tad envious of her.

'Same old,' I replied bluntly. 'Went and watched a few Quidditch games with Dad. Y'anno, help me decide which teams I want to send an applications to at the end of the year –'

'Any decisions yet?'

I grinned, 'Holyhead Harpies for definite.' Naturally, they were my favourite team. Ever since my Dad had taken me to my first Quidditch match when I was four, which featured the Holyhead Harpies versus Bournemouth Eagles, I had fallen in love with the all-woman team. I wanted to be just like them when I was older. It was my ambition to be as good as the famous Gwenog Jones. 'Of course, I'll send away a few applications, so I have a wide range of options. I'll send ones away to London Wasps – but it'll be tough to get into _that_ team – the Dover Dragons, and possibly Puddlemere United as well.'

'I bet you'll get trials for all of them. Unless you've dropped down a couple of notches on the talent-o-meter, and you're now pure crap,' Paul said, as I shot him an incredulous look. He chuckled heartily. 'That's highly unlikely though, ain't it.'

'Well, we'll have to see what darling Captain says in the first training session,' I said petulantly. I knew for a fact that in the first training session of the season, Wood would find something wrong with my flying, or my catching, or even my goal scoring ability. He always did. And with my temper, it was hard to not bite back at him for scrutinizing me. 'Knowing Wood he'll find something wrong with me to whinge about.'

As the Hogwarts Express sped along the track towards Hogwarts, the rest of our journey was relatively quiet. After several games of Exploding Snap, the trolley lady made it to our compartment. And, as all of us had rather large fondness for sweet things, half the trolley was bundled into our compartment. Once all the food had been eaten, we sprawled out on the seats, allowing the food to digest, before Jessie and Paul fell asleep. As I hadn't seen Sarah all summer, due to her being away in Spain with her family the entire time, I moved beside her so we could talk. She was a quiet, rather shy girl around people she didn't know, but around her closest friends, she never shut up. We conversed for over an hour until Paul awoke from his nap, his perfect hair now ruffled. It wasn't long before there was an announcement that the train would be arriving in Hogsmeade in less than fifteen minutes, so we scrambled to get changed into our robes. Once the train arrived in the platform, we followed the hoards of pupils towards the carriages, where the five of us clambered into one, before it set off towards the castle. As the carriage pulled to a stop outside the majestic castle, we climbed out of it and began to make our way up the stairs towards the Entrance Hall. I followed Paul into the Great Hall, where we walked towards the Gryffindor table and took our normal seats around the middle. From my seat, I watched as everyone filed through the large oak doors of the Great Hall. And, as the last few people made it to their seats, and I turned around, only then did it become apparent that I was sitting opposite to none other than Oliver Wood himself.

Immediately, I felt myself getting angry as a content smirk slid onto his face. I narrowed my eyes and stared irritatedly into those stupid big brown eyes of his, letting him know that I wasn't exactly welcoming his presence. Of all the seats on the bloody twenty foot long table, he chose the one opposite me! If didn't know any better, I'd say he was just doing it to piss me off. And let's face it, he definitely knows which buttons to press.

'Evening, Hunter,' he said, oblivious to the fact that I was staring angrily at him.

'Wood.'

Even as I snarled his name, he seemed negligent and continued to speak to me, much to my astonishment. 'Good summer? I think I saw you at one of the Puddlemere United matches, might have been against the Harpies.'

He was being nice to me. Why? Is what I would like to know. After all those training sessions where he constantly yelled at me for doing things wrong. After all those matches where I got blamed if something went wrong. Now, he was being civilized with me. And he expects me to oblige? Well, he's very sadly mistaken.

'It was alright,' I replied carelessly, as I brought my hand up to my face and inspected my nails, trying to seem uninterested. 'And, I can't say I was looking out for you, Wood.'

'I expect you continued to play over the summer?'

'Yes.'

'Find any new maneuvers to use? I know you're always looking out for new things to try on the field.'

'Yes.'

Wood looked slightly disheartened. 'What's with all the one-word answers?'

'As you _should_ remember, I usually answer you in one word answers, Wood. _Nothing_ has changed.'

**Sorry it took me so long to update - I've been super busy! Anyways, hope you like the chapter! Reviews would be nice (:**


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